


I'll be missing you

by this_is_everything



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Long-Distance Relationship, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Romantic Friendship, Sad with a Happy Ending, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:09:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_everything/pseuds/this_is_everything
Summary: 'Morning comes far too soon and Jughead finds himself unable to let go of Archie's frame, his hands wander over the other boy's back, his fingertips brushing every tight-knit muscle, burying themselves in his red hair, pulling him closer until there is no more space, until Archie is all around him.It's Archie who finally breaks the embrace, presses his lips to Jug's temple before disappearing from his grasp, the pressure of the kiss lingering.Jughead has to hold onto Fp as they walk to the car, in the rear-window he sees Mr.A bidding his own goodbyes.'Sets in S3 after Archie decides to go on alone while Fp, Fred and Jughead go back to Riverdale.The rest of s3 and s4 doesn't happen.Jughead and Archie are a couple as well as Fp x Fred.The chapters will be the 4 seasons of the year during with Archie gone.
Relationships: Alice Cooper & FP Jones II, Archie Andrews & Fred Andrews, Archie Andrews/FP Jones II, Archie Andrews/Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, FP Jones II & Jughead Jones, Fred Andrews & Jughead Jones
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	1. Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> I made Fp especially soft because I think that's what he deserves.
> 
> At the beginning of the chapter they are all at Gladys' workshop.
> 
> It took me a week only to write this chapter so it might take some time before I post the next one but don't worry I'm working on it.

'If you must wait,  
Wait for them here in my arms as I shake  
If you must weep,  
Do it right here in my bed as I sleep  
If you must mourn, my love  
Mourn with the moon and the stars up above  
If you must mourn,  
Don't do it alone

If you must leave,  
Leave as though fire burns under your feet  
If you must speak,  
Speak every word as though it were unique  
If you must die, sweetheart  
Die knowing your life was my life's best part'

\- You by Keaton Henson

There's an awkward silence while they eat. Jug sticks to Archie, pressing close, as close as possible without his mom noticing, without it being too obvious that he can't breathe, not since Archie decided to leave him, to go his own way while Jughead would go back to Riverdale.

His heart aches but he can't do anything but savor Archie's warmth as he leans against his left arm. Archie moves, settles back, rakes his arm around Jug's back. Nobody notices when Jughead plants his head on Archie's shoulder and closes his eyes, hums and Archie smiles softly.

"So Andrews.", Gladys says, her voice mocking. Jughead looks up but Gladys isn't looking at them, instead she's looking at Fred. "How does it feel like to screw my husband?"

Archie chokes on his bite of meat.

Fp looks angry. "Oh my God Gladys, can't you just stop?! We are not screwing. We never did."

And Gladys scoffs, clearly not believing anything that is leaving Fp's mouth. Fred looks resigned. As if he had been hearing this often. He leans back, the way Archie did a few minutes ago and smiles.

"Gladys I know you're paranoid, but Fp and I are definitely not a thing. I think you should stop overthinking everything."

Gladys glares. "You peg me that stupid? Really. You used to be best friends and then you weren't. For 12 years! And now I call and I find out that you stayed at Fred's house for weeks!"

"We are not-", Fp starts but Gladys interferes. "Shut up Fp, everyone knows you're not straight, so save your breath."

And Fp, beet red, looks at Jug and JB, one who looks ready to jump up and take the fight, the other bored, looking at her phone, and slumps back.

"We won't have this conversation now.", he says and Gladys laughs. It's cold and bitter, all the way in the back of her throat. "Sure let’s ignore it for another 20 years, shall we?", and she bites into her piece of meat, sauce running down her chin.

Later that night,Jug slips into Archie's bed and Archie wraps him up, kisses him softly, murmuring sweet nothings that bring tears to Jughead's eyes. They don't go further though, JB sleeping on the floor next to them.

Instead Archie pulls him closer and tells him stories of their youth, whispers about the first time he realized he was in love with Jughead, what he thought when they kissed for the first time, what he's thinking now.

_We have grown_ , Jug thinks. _This godforsaken town has chewed us through and spit us out._

And then he thinks, _Thank God Archie is getting out_.

"I love you.", he says then. His voice sounds loud in the small space between them. "I love you now and I will never stop, not now, not ever. I promise."

Morning comes far too soon and Jughead finds himself unable to let go of Archie's frame, his hands wander over the other boy's back, his fingertips brushing every tight-knit muscle, burying themselves in his red hair, pulling him closer until there is no more space, until Archie is all around him.

It's Archie who finally breaks the embrace, presses his lips to Jug's temple before disappearing from his grasp, the pressure of the kiss lingering.

Jughead has to hold onto Fp as they walk to the car, in the rear-window he sees Mr.A bidding his own goodbyes.

He cries all the way home, buried in his father's serpent jacket, eyes glued to the blurry spots passing by.

They arrive at Riverdale in the early afternoon, neither of them wanting to stop for a break, Fp just driving for hours straight ushering Fred’s helping hands gently away.

His father drives them to the Andrews house, parks the car in the empty garage, Archie isn’t here anymore to use it as a place to practice his music, it hasn’t been in a long time but now there is no reason to cling onto this lost side of Archie anymore. The person Archie has become, full of anger and hate and strength, will never pick up his guitar again. And Fred is grateful that Fp made this choice for him, decided for all of them that Archie would be a changed man after this, already is. They don’t dwell on it.

Fp helps Jughead out of the car, tucking him under his arm, keeps him close while walking Fred to the door. He hands Fred the keys and Fred smiles a tired smiles, nods a "thanks" to Fp and closes the door behind him.

They walk home. The streets are bare, there’s a cold wind biting their cheeks and pulling on their clothes and Fp just wraps Jughead in an even tighter embrace. Jughead lets him. It’s like he’s drained, completely empty, it’s like Archie ripped a whole in Jug’s being by leaving, and he’s slowly bleeding out of life. He stumbles more than he walks until Fp lifts him onto his back and carries him the rest of the way.

The trailer is cold and it smells like rotten fruits. Fp lowers Jughead onto the sofa and roams around their home, throwing out wasted food, cleaning up the scattered clothes, wrapping Jug into a blanket, his hands never keeping still, always looking for something else to do.

Jug would normally tell his dad that his manners are driving him crazy and that he should sit and calm down and the tensed muscles in his father’s shoulders show that Fp is waiting for this reprimanding, but Jughead is too tired, too nothing to even care.

He feels his father sitting down on the floor next to the couch and as his eyes flutter shut, the last thing he feels before and endless tiredness washes over him is his father’s big hand rubbing soothing circles into his back.

Fp is sitting at the small table in the kitchen, staring into the dark living room where he can see the outlines of his son's body under heavy blankets. Jughead hasn’t spoken in hours and Fp knows the worry that is picking at the sides of his stomach are not unfounded. Archie was Jughead’s first big love and having that person ripped away from him under these circumstances must have been atrocious. And Fp knows this is not over, Jughead won’t just get up after a few hours of sleep and be back to being his old self, but he still wishes for it anyways. His kid has been through enough already and Fp wants all of this to be over. Maybe if Archie came back, if he ever did, they could all move away from here, Freddie, Archie, Jug and him. Maybe to the countryside, maybe to a big town who knew. They could settle down and start to forget, start to mend the wounds this town had left on all of them.

As the past day rolls out in his mind, his thoughts stay stuck on that memory with Gladys. The terror he had felt at that moment washes over him and he grips the table with both his hands. Fred had dismissed Gladys so nonchalant as if he didn’t doubt for a second that Fp was fine, not twisted and sick and sick and sick….

Fp pulls himself back, the chair screeches under his sudden movement and he turns his head to check on the living room. But Jughead doesn’t stir, if he’s awake he doesn’t show it.

Fred, who had lost so much in such a short time had still stood up for a man he called a friend, but didn’t know anything about. _He still thinks of me as his old friend from school, that’s why he defended me. He doesn’t know me, nobody does and nobody ever will_ , he thinks but his heart clenches hard and he stutters a breath.

He reaches for his phone but thinks better of it. No need to disturb Freddie over his personal matters he doesn’t seem to be able to handle on his own.

He settles his head in his hands, breathes in deeply. How could he have not seen this coming? How didn’t he foresee that spending time around Fred after so many years would make Fp want him again, would enflame this heat inside of him he tried to bury so long ago. But both their kids were gone and they both needed dire support to get through this, to not loose their mind to the dark thoughts that crept in if they let their guard down. Thoughts of their kid’s bodies found in muddy ditches, their delicate faces disfigured by deep cuts, with broken bones and blooming bruises, thoughts that made them want to claw their eyes out. Fp had to be shaken awake by Fred from so many nightmares he lost count of them. Fred would always hold him after, in a strange familiar way that reminded him of better times, when they were still young, his arms around Fp’s chest, his lap under Fp’s head, whispering, rocking him back to sleep.

Now Fp finally remembers what he used to say. "Don’t worry Fp, Jughead is safe, Archie would never let anything happen to Jug, don’t worry your kid is fine, don’t worry everything will be okay, we’ll be okay, I got you, I got you, breathe, breathe, breathe…"

How could he not have fallen for this man again? For this beautiful, kind man that made Fp’s lungs swell with love and adoration, that made him want to be better, do better, anything, just to stay a bit longer by that man’s side.

He had let go of the tight grip around his emotions and now they were overspilling and Fp couldn’t stop them, they blurred his mind and made his movements sluggish, languid.

Fp rightens himself again, gazes to his son. There is still no movement and the sun would rise soon, he felt it in his bones, this strange anticipation that made the hairs in his neck stand up, a tension that made him unable to go to sleep. So he gets up with a groan, his body protesting with single sparks of pain along his spine, and stretches before walking out of the trailer.

He had been gone for some time and there were some things he needed to deal with.

....

A week later Fred stands in front of their trailer, fists deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched. He looks tired and old, there's grey in his hair that wasn't there last time, and a dull gaze that reflects the sickening of the soul itself.

He looks uncomfortable, shuffles his feet on the gravel. 

"Would you like to join me for dinner?", he asks, his voice hoarse as if he hasn't used it for a long time. He probably hadn't.

Fp looks back at Jughead, slouched on the sofa, looks at his son who hasn’t moved for so long, has barely breathed, like he’s trying to become invisible, to waste into nothingness and turns back to Fred.

"Of course." And Fred smiles a small grateful smile, nods more to himself than to Fp and turns around. "I’ll see you tomorrow.", he says and then he is gone.

Fred hadn’t told them at what time to show up so Fp walks out of the trailer at 6pm sharp with Jughead following him closely. He sits Jughead in front of him on the motorbike, he is scared that Jug will fall off if he sits in the back, his kid is small enough for Fp to see the road over his head.

Nevertheless Fp drives slower than usual.

They arrive at 6 30 which is still a bit too early for Fp’s taste but he rings the doorbell anyways.

There’s some noise and then the door gets ripped open, making Fp and Jughead jump a little and there’s Fred, in an apron, cheeks flushed, looking more alive than he has in a long time.

"Hi, come on in, dinner is not ready yet but it won’t take long."

They follow him into the kitchen, Jughead carefully avoiding to look at the framed pictures on the wall. His father looks as awkward as he feels, but even now, a week into his Archie-Anderws-withdrawal, he can’t seem to bring up the energy into caring about anything that is happening around him.

Fp sits him down at the counter and moves to Fred’s side. The man is struggling to do everything at once but still finds the time to smile at him and wipe coexisting sweat from his forehead.

"I didn’t think it would take so many hands to do this. I always had an extra pair of hands I could order around when needed..", his eyes grow dark. Fp softly bumps his shoulders against Fred’s. "I have two working hands as far as I know.You could order me around. At least I know how to handle a knife"

"I don’t doubt that for a second." Fred’s eyes stay filled with sadness but the smile he casts Fp lingers and he nudges the other man to the vegetables that haven’t been cut yet.

Fp smiles.

The dinner takes longer than anticipated to be cooked but Fp will be damned if it isn’t one of the best things he’s eaten in his entire life.

Jughead doesn't speak a word but that’s okay. They eat in pleasant silence, Fred keeps glancing at Fp and Fp keeps catching him, holding his gaze.

After their plates are empty and their stomachs full, Fred turns to Jughead. "You look tired, Jug. Why don’t you go up to Archie’s room and take a nap." Jughead flinches but nods anyways, getting up and slowly making his way to the stairs.

Fp helps Fred clean up the kitchen.

Afterwards they collapse on the sofa, Fp’s feet propped up on the small table. Fred ignores it benevolently. Instead he turns to Fp.

"I have to admit that I had a reason for inviting you tonight other than your company."

Fp nods.

"See, with Archie gone, I’m scared of being by myself, of what I’ll do if I’m left alone for too long… I don’t want to end up like Jughead, I.. just can’t", his voice falls quiet, Fred’s eyes are distant.

"What are you saying Freddie?" Fred’s head snaps back to him.

"I want you and Jughead to move in with me. I think it will do the kid some good to be around Archie’s things, he can stay in his room, and I…I wouldn’t be alone."

Fp’s stomach plummets. This is bad and he knows it. He can’t be close to Fred, not now, he has to get rid of this want first, has to find a way to his old self before he completely looses grasp of it.

"I don’t think that would be a good idea.", he says softly to cushion the blow but Fred’s whole demeanor drops anyways.

"What? why not? Please Fp I can’t do it, don’t leave me alone now, not now.", Fred wails, his eyes blown wide with horror and Fp’s stomach flips again.

"To be honest Fred, I hate your couch. I don’t want to" This is Fp’s last chance to get out, he has to be harsh, to save himself and he jumps.

"That’s okay, we can sleep in my bed, it’s big enough. Or I can buy a new couch, just stay please, I’m begging you." Fred’s eyes start to swim. Fp falls.

"Your bed is fine.", he whispers because he cannot have Fred spending money he doesn’t have, money he needs to pay the never ending flow of bills because some asshole shot him in the chest.

Fred smiles a watery smile but before he can say anything Fp stops him. He has be honest, for once in his life he doesn’t think he can run away and survive it. If he doesn’t do it now he might as well die. Maybe it’s the wine they’ve drunk that gives him the final push to open his eyes

"I have something I have to tell you first."

Fred settles back, his eyes fixed of Fp’s and nods.

"In high school, I used to have a crush on you. A big, fat crush I couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard I tried." Fred opens his mouth but Fp shakes his head. He can’t stop now. If he stops he won’t ever find the courage again.

"And I thought I left all of that behind, I got married, had 2 kids. I thought I had gotten rid of the feelings when actually I only had gotten rid of you. And now after all this time… I still seem to have those feelings for you."

Fred is staring at him.

"I like you Freddie.", he waits, then continues. "Do you still want me to live with you? To sleep in the same bed as you?"

Fred is quiet, then, out of the deeps of his chest, bubbles laughter, small and seemingly delighted. Fp frowns and Fred catches himself.

His eyes sparkle as he starts to speak. "In high school, I had a crush on you too Fp.", and then he giggles again and now Fp is staring, trying to make sense of what Fred is saying until the other man catches his hands in his own. His fingers are warm and rough, anchoring him.

"I only knew it much later, but I did like you. And I guess… I could like you again."

"What?", he is dumbfounded, his brain seems to have had a short circuit and now no one is home.

"We could try it, you and me, Fp. God knows we deserve some happiness." Fred smiles, the sadness is back in his eyes but there’s hope too.

"What do you say?"

Fp brings Fred’s fingers to his mouth and kisses each of his knuckles hard and raw with love.

Fred hums and it resonates in Fp’s chest. It’s a happiness nothing can compare to.

"I’ll talk to Jughead.", he says, a bit too eager, a bit too breathless, his cheeks red as he scrambles to his feet and towards the stairs. Then he halts, turns around. "You’re not just saying that so that I stay, right? You’re not lying to me, are you?" And there is so much hurt and fear in Fp’s voice, a hurt that comes from a deep betrayal and Fred just nods. "I swear on the life of my son, that I will never lie to you. I meant what I said."

Fp nods slowly, then, with far less energy, he climbs the stairs to the first floor.

....

They move in shortly after, their things fitting into their backpacks and 2 boxes, mostly filled with Jughead’s books. They sell the trailer, it’s not much but the money is used to pay one of Fred’s bills, to put a bit more distance between them and the dark memories of the past year.

Fp stays home while Fred goes to work, more for Jughead’s sake, to make sure his kid drinks enough and remembers to eat, to breathe. He cleans, repairs the wood on the stairs, on the ceiling, cooks, anything to make himself useful while he’s not working.

It’s tentative at first, Fp always casting anxious glances towards Fred. They’re not used to each other anymore.

It’s sad how time has thinned them both out, making them less open for sudden changes. But Fred seems dedicated to finding his way back to Fp. Soft teasing, trying to fit his body into Fp’s personal space without looking too out of place.

He smiles at Fp more often than not now, lets his hands rest on Fp’s body, his shoulders, his thighs, his fingers. Fp feels awkward about it, tries to enjoy it but his brain always goes into panic mode whenever Fred moves into his space, a reaction he trained onto himself throughout years of hiding.

He regrets it now. Because every time he flinches away, something dies out in Freddie’s eyes and Fp grows to hate himself for it.

One evening, as they lie in their bed they settle on keeping this a secret, between the two of them, and Fp nods, relief washing over him and then Fred’s hand is in his hair pulling him closer, his lips ghosting a kiss onto Fp’s and for once Fp doesn’t pull back.

Fred counts this as a win.

....

Fred learns how Fp has changed. How soft Fp has grown around the edges. How tired the constant wariness made him. When Fp is around other people, he is stoic, firm as a rock. At home, because it is their home now, has been for some time, he lets his guard down. At home Fp is soft, so soft it breaks Fred’s heart to see him retract into his hard shell before leaving the house, at home he lets his feelings go and there is so much uncertainty and fear in Fp Fred has never known about.They try to talk about it and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes they kissand sometimes they cry and sometimes they are just lost around each other but when Fp curls around Fred in his sleep, his muscles loose, and Fred wraps his arms around him, to shield him from the nightmares, Fred knows that all of their trying and struggling will be worth it in the end.

....

They change. Together. Fred can feel it in the way Fp relaxes in his proximity, how he lets Fred shape and reshape him. He still shies away from Fred’s touch sometimes especially when they’re outside, the fear heightening his senses.

But Fred persists, clasps his hand into Fp’s at every chance he gets. It thrills him. It’s like he’s shouting from the top of his lungs for the whole world to hear. _Look! Look at me, I’m daring to love this beautiful man. Look how I will make you hate me! Watch me sin and delight in it!_

Fp’s hand fits perfectly into Fred’s, the way Fp’s fingers, warm and rough seem to glide over every part of Fred’s palm, as if he could recognize him by touch only, as if to remember every crevice, every scar, before sliding his finger’s through Fred’s intertwining them tightly.

Fp likes that Fred is taking charge of their relationship, it something less he has to worry about with his head already filled with Fred’s bills, his medications, Jughead’s unresponsiveness to his expensive antidepressants, Fred’s lack of sleeping, Jughead’s lack of awakedness.

....

They go on dates sometimes, to the movies or to Pop’s who still gives Fp free shakes whenever he comes as if he still were the undernourished teenager from back then. He tries to pay Pops more than once but the man reacts with a harshness that makes even Fred’s smile drop.

Instead Pops gives him a job. It pays just fine and it’s one of the most pleasant jobs he has done until now. He gets to take home free cake, can choose his hours and doesn’t need to look over his shoulders every 2 seconds.

Fred smiles every time he watches Fp get ready while he is laying in bed.

"What?", Fp asks every time and every time Fred answers "Nothing, I like watching you be happy." And then adds "You look pretty.", which has Fp blushing every single time.

....

Halfway through November Jughead starts to move, gets up by himself, eats bigger portions. There’s color in his cheeks now, his clothes fit better, his thinned out hair becomes stronger, tumble in curls around his face. He resembles Fp more and more each day and Fred finds it endearing, how they move their hands in the same manner when they speak, how their smiles illuminate the room.

Betty comes by more often, her eyes as sad as Jughead’s but her stance strong and firm. Fp sees so much of Alice in her it makes his heart ache. She brings Jughead his homework, forces him to go to classes, teaches him everything he has missed. She gifts him a camera for his 18th birthday a month too late, but his heart warms anyways because he remembers how he dismissed her cold-heartedly on the actual day, all buried in his blankets, focussed on the never ending pain in his chest. He wants to say how sorry he is but she just waves a hand and kisses the top of his head before forcing some cake down his throat and making him study for hours straight.

When she takes care of him he feels like a child again, her arms curl protectively around him when they walk in the streets. She is always close by, a wall between him and the world.

_She is lovely_ , Jughead thinks as they sit in a booth at Pops’. _I really do love her_.

He gazes at her and she smiles a knowing smile in response. _God how I love her_.

He reaches for her hand carefully and she holds onto his fingers with a strength he can’t muster. "It’ll get better. Someday it has to get better.", she says and Jughead thinks he might kiss her here and now, because she is everything he wants to be, everything he seemed to have lost when Archie went away.

He doesn’t kiss her in the end, just nods and she lets go of his hand.

They don’t talk for a while, then Betty nods towards the door and Jughead follows her gaze. His father is leaning onto the side of Fred’s truck, his breath freezing in the cold pre-winter air, his hands tucked in the pockets of his new jacket Fred had bought for him.

Fred is walking towards him, balancing shakes and bags of fries on his two hands.

"Why are you out of the car, you will freeze you idiot.", his voice carries into the restaurant. Fp just smiles and snatches a chocolate shake out of Fred’s hands. "I hope you paid for that.", he says and Fred tries to make something like a dismissive hand-gesture which drowns in his struggles to keep all the food from falling to the ground.

"The day Pops will make you pay for shakes will be a very sad one for my wallet."

"Get in the car.", Fp orders instead.

"It’s nice that they found each other, don’t you think?", Betty says and it reminds Jughead a lot of what she said to him when Archie and him got together.

"I guess.", he murmurs, his eyes on Fred’s car as Fp pulls out.

"Do you mind?"Now there’s worry in Betty’s voice and he turns back to her. Her blue eyes are on him and he finds it difficult to breathe.

"I guess not." And he doesn’t. He likes to see his dad happy, likes to see him take control of his life while Jughead is trying so desperately to keep his together. He likes seeing his dad’s eyes light up when Fred smiles at him even though Jughead knows his father tries to hide it.

Betty hums and turns back to their homework and that’s about it.

Later she would say "Like father, like son huh?", and he would snort in response and it would be the first time that he would think about Archie and not feel any pain, only a warm flush in his lungs.

....

When he comes home later that evening, Fp invites him on the couch, his face hard and Jughead knows already what his dad wants to tell him. He overheard Fred and Fp in the kitchen the day before, deciding it would be time to tell Jughead and Jug had rolled his eyes because they lived together and how could he have not seen them change to something more than friends.

He sits down next to his father.

Fp's shoulders are slouched, his whole frame collapsed on himself. He seems so vulnerable now as he struggles to speak, rubbing his hands together, never getting them to rest, his gaze directed to the floor.

It breaks Jughead's heart.

Everything has been hurting now, the past weeks, months, and he wants it to stop, to finally end, to sleep and not wake up from nightmares. He wants his chest to rise and fall normally without this deep pain, without this feeling that crushes his lungs, that closes his throat makes it hard to breathe.

Everything has been pain so he knows better than to put his father through any to tell him something he already knows of, already accepted.

He knows his father's pain comes from a different place, from a deep, dark part in Fp that is still terrified of himself, of who he is, who he loves, terrified that he will end up alone.

In this moment ,Jughead knows, Fp fears nothing more than the rejection of his son because of who he chose to be.

Jug reaches out, puts a small hand on his father’s ones, finally stilling them.

"I know, don’t worry, I know. It’s okay, I love you Dad.", his voice is small but it carries.

And Fp’s smiles like Jughead hung the stars for him, his eyes are misty with emotions and Jughead kindly ignores the tears that escape his father’s grasp.

They sit like that for some time, bathed in solemn quiet, their breathing synchronized until Fred walks through the door, as loud and alive as Archie used to be and Jughead pulls his hand back, smiles at his father who’s eyes are glued to Fred’s frame.

Fred grins, a grin from the past, filled with memories and love. It’s like he knows, like he can feel out the atmosphere and instantly know what happened before he entered. He reaches out his hand and Fp doesn’t so much as scramble to catch it. Fred pulls him towards him, brings Fp into a gentle hug. Fp’s breathing stutters and he holds himself like a fragile thing, as if he might break at any second, folds himself around Fred because he is the glue that keeps it all together.

And Jughead watches them with a sort of longing because his glue is gone and he is about to dry out and break.

He has never seen his father so full of raw emotions, love and fear and everything in between. Fp seems to live through them with more intensity now and it scares Jughead a bit, to know someone else has complete power over his father’s very being. But then Fred smiles at Jughead and extended his other arm and Jughead melts into his embrace. He reminds himself that he can trust Mr.A . From all the people his father could have given his heart to, Mr. A is definitively the best choice. He knows Fred wouldn’t hurt Fp, wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ever did.

"Like father, like son, huh?", he whispers and he feels Fred chuckle and he thinks, between Fred and Fp that maybe, just maybe, everything might be alright in the end.


	2. Winter

"All our memories are packed into boxes

Stacked up against the door

'Cause they say the bigger the love, the harder the fall

Well, I'm crashing through the floor

Still feel your breath on my lips

As you're walking out the door

But my hand starts to slip

Never felt like this before.

If the feeling's gone

Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake with me"

-Stay awake by Dean Lewis

Things start going south with the first snow. They’ve felt it coming for a while now, the realization creeping up on them that it’s too quiet, that something has to happen and destroy whatever they’ve managed to build in these past few months.

Jughead just keeps his head lower, barely comes home, buries himself in old dusty books in search of an answer for a question he is not yet aware of.

They know it’s coming, like a headache starting with the throbbing of their temples, they know the hurricane is imminent, they just don’t know what will hit them yet.

The anticipation rises until one day, it hits them with a force they weren’t expecting. The storm has the form of Mary Andrews as she stands in front of their door, on a cold clear morning in early December, all hard-gazed and fierce looking and Jughead swallows hard. He lets her in without a question and she stomps past him without throwing him a second look, into the living room. Jughead knows what she will find, her husband and Fp on the couch, arms interlaced behind the other’s neck, buzzing with adoration and love. He doesn’t see their reaction but when he enters the room Fred is standing and Fp is sitting at the far end of the couch, his cheeks and ears flushed.

Mary builds up in front of them until realize now that she is what they have been waiting for. Fred’s stance falls into itself and he sits down with a long sigh, his eyes still blown wide.

"How are you, Mary?", he asks and Jughead wants to slap him. Mary just glares. "Oh just fabulous. You know I love hearing from other people that my husband is screwing someone else while I’m gone, and not even a girl but a boy." She sneers at Fp. "And we both know Fp isn’t just any boy, right?"

His father melts even more into the sofa, a cushion as shield in front of him.

"Who told you that?", Fred asks, bringing the attention away from Fp and onto himself again.

"Guess what,"she turns to Fp again and Jughead can see Fred tense. "Why don’t you ask your wife?"

And Fp splutters something that sounds like 'what a fucking bitch' before shutting his mouth, his lips pressed together tightly.

"So how about you make yourselves scarce, so that I can talk to my husband in private. And get me Archie on the way out."

Fred’s face blanches, his eyes flicker to Fp and then back to Mary, then to the floor. Mary furrows her brows, turns to Jughead, takes in his pyjama and turns back again, her gaze sharp and cutting.

"Where is my son?!"

An hour later, Mary Andrews sits at the kitchen isle, a cup of hot tea in her hand. Fred is sitting next to her, Fp and Jughead are standing, hidden in the furthest corner of the kitchen, trying to make themselves very small.

There are dried tears on Mary’s face but her gaze is still strong and in it, Fp sees the old glamour of young Mary Maiden, the one Fred fell so hopelessly in love with, the kind girl that indulged in his mistakes and his pathetic reasons for doing them, the girl that forgave every stood-up with a nodding of the head. She was, still is, strong in a way Fred never was, never will be. She sees what needs to be done, what it costs and does it anyways. That’s probably why she is so good at her job. The job for which she was willing to leave her husband and child behind in this town full of freaks, psychos and murderers with black hoods. To be honest Fp had forgotten about her, her presence in Riverdale so scarce that he had wiped it out of his memories, his brain unwilling to find a flaw in Fred and his relationship. He felt bad about it now, watching her grieve her son, all the while retracting herself from Fred, pulling her hands out of his grasp which Fp knows out of his own experience is something very painful to do.

She looks up at Fred, smiles. "Let’s get divorced, huh?"

And Fred stutters, his eyes fill with pain until he meets Fp’s gaze and drops his demeanor. Fp’s chest aches as he watches Fred’s heart break. He knows Fred loved Mary, still does, loves her especially since she gave him Archie. There is so much space in Fred’s heart, everyone fits in it somehow and Fp thinks how tiring it must be, to care about everyone, to always try to see the good in them, how battered his heart must be from the disappointments.

His own heart is small from mistrust and pain, and loving Jughead and Jellybean and allowing himself to love Fred has used up its whole capacity. He is full.

He wonders how much space he uses up it Fred’s heart, his own seemingly being filled to the brim with Fred’s face, and Fred’s fingers on his skin, and his lips speaking and kissing and-

"I do love you.", he says to her and Fp feels Jughead grow tense next to him. He wraps his fingers around the back of his son’s neck, calloused fingers over soft skin, grounds him, lets him know that this is okay. He doesn’t know if he believes it himself but Jughead relaxes a bit, his shoulders grow soft under his fathers fingers. He pushes his hand into his boy’s hair, under the beanie, and feels Jughead become completely pliant. The boy falls to his chest with a deep sigh.

"I do love you, believe me.", Fred says again. And now it stings a bit because Fred has never said that to him before, not like this, with this pain and hope and vulnerability in his voice that makes it impossible to doubt his sincerity.

Mary tries to smile but it quickly falls away from her face. "I know.",she whispers. "I know Fred but I can’t do this. That’s not how it works. I won’t ask you to choose, I will do it. I can’t be with you after you’ve been with someone else, after you’ve betrayed my trust."

Her face is blank, lets no emotions break through. She must have thought about it for a while and known about it for even longer to be this unfazed about it.

Fred sinks back, his face crunched up in something that looks like hurt.

Mary gazes at Fp, her smile now stronger, more genuine.

"You look good.", she says and Fp flushes. Because this is the girl he’s known since high school, who like him had had a crush on Fred since forever, who probably knew about Fp’s feelings as much as he knew about hers, and who had still been so incredibly kind to him, for no other reason than that it was what she felt was right. He flushes because he betrayed her as much as Fred did, maybe hurt her even more because they used to be friends, because he knows how she must feel in this moment, because he’s been there when Fred asked her to marry him.

"Thanks.", he whispers, his hand still in Jughead’s hair.

"Walk with me, won’t you."

He knows there’s no way he can say no to this, so he nods, pulls his fingers away from under his son’s beanie and squares his shoulders.

She invites him for coffee at Pop’s but Fp shakes his head. It’s his day off and he doesn’t want to go there and have people treat him like a waiter while he’s trying to have a conversation or whatever this is going to be with the wife of the man he is screwing. They walk alongside the river instead, Fp’s head dizzy with anticipation.

They stop and sit on the bench.

"I.. want to say that I don’t hate you for what you did.For what you’re doing."

Fp’s head snaps up, his eyes wide. "I-um.."

"Don’t sweat it Fp. I’ve had my chance. I married him and we had 16 amazing years. Now it’s your turn. Be happy for once."

She smiles at Fp’s watery eyes. "Let me tell you something. Fred might have chosen me back then, but he chose you now. And I think that has to count for something. It means something. Maybe everything. Fred might care about every person but he doesn’t love them the way he loves us, the way he loves you."

"He loves you Mary, I know that.", he says because he doesn’t know what else to do.

She stares at his face, her eyes follow the outline of his face, his gentle stubble, his dark eyes, his thin lips.

"That love will fade away soon. You are too different from me. He won’t have time to remember me when he is with you. I know your kind, you have been starved for too long and now you will take all he has, all he is. You will swallow his love more quickly than he will be able to give you. There’s no room for me in that love."

Fp flinches back, hard, his chest heaving as if he had been running. The tears that threatened to fall before, burn in his eyes now.

"I won’t… I’m not.. I don’t-" Mary silences him with a gaze.

"What’s done is done. He must be serious about you if he lets you back into his life after all the pain you’ve caused each other. I don’t want to judge or do anything, I just wanted to tell you that I have no resentment for you if this is what you were fearing. The only person I should loathe is the person I could never hate"

Fp gets up then. Because he doesn’t want to cry in front of her or because he hates himself or her or everything or because there’s nothing left to say.

He starts to walk away when she speaks up again.

"I just want to know… did you ever think about me? While you were with him, did you ever think about me? About how I would feel? About how you were doing to me what I did to you? You know the pain of loving Fred. And you still did it anyways."

Fp stares at her small frame, her red hair so flamboyant in the white around them. She must be cold but her body doesn’t betray anything.

"I never thought of you in all this time you’ve been gone.", he says and it hurts his soul. Mary deserved better than this, better than him, better than Fred. The only thing he can give her is the truth.

Mary scoffs and looks away. "Typical.", she says.

She is hurt. He can read it in her stillness, in her blazing gaze, slowly hardening like the snow under her shoes.

He so desperately wants to go home, to Fred, well maybe not to Fred but just home and curl up in his, in their, Fred and his’s, Mary and Fred’s, he doesn’t even know which’s, bed.

"I’m sorry about your son.", he says and her gaze softens, if only a little bit. She turns to look at him.

"I’m sorry about yours too."

Fred is pacing in the living room when Fp enters. Fred slings an arm around Fp’s neck, breathing a soft "Thank God." And then. "What did she say to you?"

Fred’s eyes are full of a worry Fp can’t quite place and it makes him squeamish. Carefully he pushes Fred away, walks into the kitchen to get some of the tea that Fred didn’t think of pouring him before. He feels Fred’s presence in his back, turns around. "What do you think she said?" It sounds a bit harsh now, the words seemingly inoffensive in his brain taste like a reproach in his mouth. Fred flinches barely. He steps closer, takes the cup out of Fp’s hand and puts it down on the counter behind Fp and only now does he realize how hot the beverage was, his fingertips burning.

"Don’t leave me.", he says then. And it’s the same voice like before, full of pain and longing and… fear. Fred’s eyes blown wide, he looks younger than before, more vulnerable. Fp stays quiet so Fred lets his hands glide to Fp’s face until they settle behind his neck. He pulls him closer, and softly so softly his lips brush over Fp’s ears.

"I love you Fp. Don’t leave me, please. I love you."

And Fp nods because he has loved Fred for far longer and he doesn’t think he can ever let go of this and it makes him think of Mary’s words and then about her sitting on the snowy bench and Fp is terrified that she did manage to create a rift between them, scared that he is taking too much from Fred because he is a poor Southside boy who has finally tasted happiness, who has finally tasted God and what else could he do than destroy the very thing he loves most.

He shivers as Fred’s hands start to wander, to his face, to the crook of his neck, to every place Fred has already mapped out with his lips. Then Fred pulls away and Fp whines. His eyes are closed now and he’s not planning on opening them anytime soon.

"Yes I’ll stay Freddie, of course I’ll stay.", he breathes and then Fred’s hand are back on his neck and now his lips are there as well, kissing his jaw, his cheeks, his eyelids, his mouth. Fp tips his head back and Fred gets the hint, latches onto the spot that makes Fp’s very soul weep with joy and pleasure, the spot right behind his ear and Fp moans.

He wastes a thought on Jughead and where he could be and if they really should be doing this in a kitchen but then Fred opens his mouth and bites down hard on the spot and Fp’s legs give out. Fred presses him to the counter to keep him from dropping to the floor, digging his hips into Fp’s and if he just rolls his hips a bit- Fp sees stars.

Fred is nipping the now sore spot and he can feel the grin on his lips.

Fp pulls Fred’s hair, guides his lips back on his own and now Fred’s hands are wandering again, over his arms, his chest, to his back and lower, squeezing.

Fp feels like he might die if they don’t get out of their clothes soon.

So he pushes Fred away, catching his breath.

"Not here.", he says with the full intention of making it to the bed before he looses his mind. Instead they come as far as the couch, both of them tumbling onto it with shrieks and tangled limbs. Fred is already kissing him again, his body heavy on Fp’s lungs.

"Hey.", he breathes because Fred is breathtaking in every possible way. "Hey." He stills them, Fred’s hands on his hips. "I love you too.",he whispers and it feels like too much, it feels too raw, too much of anything but Fred is smiling now, grin spreading from ear to ear and Fp thinks they might be okay.

Fred kisses him like his life depends on it, unbuckles Fp’s belt, pulls his pants to his knees, palms him through his boxers and Fp bites his hand to stop the moans spluttering out of his mouth, to stop himself from coming right now.

Fred catches his hand and pulls it down, pressing hard. "I wanna hear you." He says, as if he knew what he was doing. Then he smiles and tips his head slightly. It makes him look very young, so at ease with himself as if there were nothing to fear, nothing to loose.

He dips closer, nibbles on Fp’s earlobe before whispering shamelessly.

"I’m gonna make you scream."

Fp would be lying if he said he didn’t like it when Fred got rough with him. When he pressed him down with a raw force flashing in his eyes, giving him no choice but to comply. When he pulls Fp’s head where he wants him to be, when his hands wrap around his throat, pressing down just enough to kick up Fp’s survival instinct, when he bites him, when he makes dark huge hickeys or bruises appear, in form of palms, on his ribs, his hips, his thighs.

It shows Fp who he belongs to, reminds him with every step that he is owned entirely.

This time it’s different though. It’s as if something had shifted in the short few hours since they’ve gotten up. As if they had matured. It’s so completely different, so soft, so careful, so much love bleeding between them, so many feelings conveyed with each touch. I love you. I need you. Yes right there. More. Please I’m begging you more.

Fp pants just as much as always, writhing, moaning, comes just as hard as every other time, screams like Fred promised but there are no bruises this time, no proof of what happened, no reminder except of the memory he keeps replaying in his mind while Fred sleeps in his arms. This has to be it, this has to be everything. Why else would Fp feel like breaking apart and sticking together at the same time?

"What are you thinking about?" Fred’s voice is sleepy but his eyes are awake.

"She told me that I loved you too much, that I would swallow you whole until there was nothing left of you."

Now Fred’s fingers are awake as well, tracing patterns on Fp’s chest.

"I mean you could try."

"…"

"Honestly, try it Fp. There will always be love for you in me, there will never be nothing left of me as long as you exist."

The divorce goes through quickly, Mary probably having pulled more than a few strings to get this over with fast. They sign and leave, Mary turning out of Fred’s hug before getting into the car and leaving for what seems like the last time. "Only call me if Archie turns up." She tells him as she walks to the car and Fred can only nod.

There is a sadness in him somewhere, but it’s far smaller than what he anticipated and that makes him even sadder.

He watches her car until it disappears, then he feels Fp’s warm hand on his shoulder, pulling him away.

They go drinking, Fp carefully nursing only one beer while Fred is loosing count of his drinks that magically seem to refill themselves as soon as he’s done with them. His feet are linked with Fp’s and he tries a lot to look how a devastated newly divorced man should look like and not climb Fp right here, his mouth hot on the other’s.

He does kiss Fp on their way home, Fred swaying dangerously on his feet.

"We’re free.",he whispers then. "We’re finally free." This time louder and then he starts laughing before puking onto the sidewalk.

And because Riverdale is a small town where every gossip gets hunted and swallowed ravenously, his divorce even makes the paper, Alice bashing about how sad it was to see their marriage break apart while secretly Fred knows that Alice has never been able to stand Mary, even in school when they were something like friends.

Many people come up to him, put on fake sad faces to tell him how sorry they are and how hard it must be to loose one’s wife in a time like this. The 'time like this' meaning Archie’s absence but they don’t dare to say his name, scared of how Fred might react, he does look fragile from the outside doesn’t he? Fred always smiles, looks at Fp and tells them that it’s okay, that he’s doing good, he has people who love him in his life.

When they walk away Fred links his arm with Fp’s, and Fp laughs silently, bumping their shoulders together.

One time Fred shoots over the top when he kisses Fp, right there in the supermarket while they’re picking up groceries, Jughead wrinkling his nose and disappearing in another isle. Fp is too stunted to react, they never talked about coming out but apparently this is happening and holy shit Fred looks good with this sly smile, it makes his blood rush to his cock, his cheeks heating up. He can feel the air shifting, still leaning onto the shopping cart because his limbs are frozen, can hear the whispers starting to swell but he can’t take his eyes off Fred and his dimples and his bright eyes until Jughead hits him with a pack of frozen greens before dropping them into the cart, murmuring something about growing up and getting their act together.

And because they still live in Riverdale, these news travel fast too and Pop doesn’t even blink when Fred picks up Fp after his shift with a kiss and a hand to his back.

Fp has been grinning so much in the past weeks, the unused muscles in his cheeks hurt constantly now, but that doesn’t stop him. He kisses Fred whenever he can just because he can now. He’s almost ashamed when they get caught red-handed in the back alley behind the supermarket, Fred’s hands under his sweater, they faces flushed from both the arousal and the freezing cold, but only almost because he’s just too damn happy, because being with Fred is intoxicating and he wonders sometimes if this sudden happiness is not making him slowly loose his mind, heck he even left the house without a knife yesterday.

Jughead found a new obsession. Trying to end Hiram Lodges’ reign over Riverdale is now his top one priority, and Betty and him have been scavenging the backyards of all the known and unknown drug labs, even convincing the other young serpents to join in the hunt for Hiram’s head. Frankly there wasn’t much convincing needed, Sweet Pea jumping to his feet almost instantly when Jughead laid down his plan, and where Sweet Pea goes the others follow soon. To make sure the kids are still going to school the older serpents have volunteered to do the job during the day, them too looking for ways to get their revenge on the hated man. Fp joins them at the Whyte Wyrm, his jacket like his second skin, even after these months of not wearing it. Only when he enters the bar does he realize how much he missed this place. Wherever he will be in the future, this will always be his home, a part of his heart, this is the place that made him to the man he is today. John grins up at him, and gestures to where the other serpents are huddled up around layers of maps. "So the King finally joins us again.", he says, his voice booming. Fp accepts the beer he gets handed but holds it limply in his hand.

The serpents make room for him and he leans onto his left hand. John slithers into the small space next to him. "Heard you got hitched."

The other serpents laugh.

"Hitched my ass.", he says, the rough words feeling unfamiliar in his mouth, after months of whispering sweet nothings into Fred’s ears.

"But honestly…You and the Andrews guy? For real?"

The only reason John is still talking is because he has always been close to Fp, them having formed something like friendship because they were initialized on the same day. Other serpents would have shut up by now.

Or maybe his power is dwindling after his long absence.

He nods. "Yeah, you got a problem?", his voice is a bit too hard, a bit too on the defensive side but John lifts his drink free hand averting the accusation swinging in Fp’s phrase.

"Hell no, chill out man. Just curious. Didn’t know you swung that way, with your kids and wife and all that."

Fp looks at the other serpents, most of their faces more focused on the maps than on their little conversation. The once’s looking up have smiles hanging on their lips. John grasps his shoulder.

"We just wanna know what’s going on in your life. You’ve been gone for a long time."

Fp realizes that his whole life has stopped revolving around his gang. Before it was worrying about money for the gang, about the members, about how to make sure everyone had enough to eat and a place to stay. But Fred is not a serpent, he will probably never be and he is now Fp’s whole life.

'They’re worried', he thinks. 'They’re worried I’m going to betray them, that I’m going to leave them.'

"Nothing has changed." He says, his voice loud and clear. 'Like a King.'

Eyes lift, shoulders relax.

John smiles.

"Now let’s see how we can get rid of that scumbag once and for all.", he says.

It’s easier said than done, both Fp and Jughead bury themselves under layers of papers, contracts, photos and little smudged notes written on wrinkled paper that hold the results of their weeks of shadowing any druglab or junkie in the whole area. It’s a slow process, and Fp is starting to be out of breath, but Jughead is dashing along, connecting loose contracts with a certain amount of money that had been wired to someone else’ account and that person is- Fp almost can’t keep up. But he forces his tired eyes back on the board, tries to take it all in, to find a way to lay out a plan, a trap for Mr. Hiram Lodge and to take down his imperium.

While they’re at it, Christmas time comes and goes. Jughead doesn’t notice the festivity in the air until he walks straight into a poster advertising a Christmas Holiday special. When he tells Betty, she laughs a little but turns back to the papers. He remembers how the 3 of them used to wear ugly Christmas sweaters almost like a cult sign, laughing at the confused faces of teachers, shopowners and fellow students. Betty had this one sweater, an ugly green color, that looked close to vomit, that had little bells and bows on it so she looked like a Christmas present no one wanted to have. She would also but on earrings that looked like baubles and Archie would run after her trying to get to them.

When he asks Betty about the sweater, she shrugs and dismisses it. "I probably threw it away, it really was horrendous."

That’s when Jughead realizes Betty is not wearing anything even remotely Christmas-y. Her ponytail has no cute bow in it, her fingernails bare of any red nail polish, no bauble earrings.

And Jughead feels kind of sad about it. Betty used to be so happy during Christmas time, always begging them to go ice skating, to drink hot chocolate or watch the Grinch together. It makes him realize that she is suffering too, that her life was also thrown out of balance with Archie’s leaving. But he was so focused on his own pain, he didn’t see the pain Betty had to carry, which she did while caring for him as well. Now her face looks pale and ashen, her golden hair is now dull in the bright light of her room. She’s burnt out. He leans over, wraps his arms around her and presses her tightly against his chest. He can feel her heartbeat, the warmth of her face near his’. She doesn’t cry, but she slumps into his embrace without a second of doubt. They stay like that for a long time, rocking on the bed until they eventually fall asleep.

At home there are no Christmas lights, no Christmas Tree and Jughead doesn’t even blame Mr.A. He doesn’t feel high spirited either without Archie around to be excited about everything that even resembles closely a Christmas decoration. So he goes around and buys Mr.A and his father the comfiest Christmas sweaters he can find, and gives it to them on a Sunday morning, without wrapping or anything. His father looks slightly disgusted, seemingly reevaluating his esteem for Jughead, but Mr.A smiles brightly, presses the sweater closer and thanks Jughead profusely. Fp gets up with a huff, apparently done with the silliness of his son and his lover and leaves the room to go to the bathroom. Fred snickers and pulls the sweater over his head, his eyes sparkling.

"I got you the same…like couple outfits.", Jughead whispers. Fred laughs again and gathers Fp’s sweater in his lap.

On Christmas Eve he kisses Betty on the cheek because she is the closest he has to Archie, because he is yearning for some love, some affection that is not mixed with pain and sorrow. She lets him kiss her lips but laughs his hands away from her hips. She gives him a fancy edition of Macbeth and he gives her a fingerprint kit, the expensive one, not the one for kids, the real deal, it’s the money he would have used to buy Archie and him a spa weekend but Archie is not here and the shining in her eyes makes it worth it.

Then Fred invites Alice and Betty over but only Betty comes, her blue dress like a breath of fresh air in the rather dull living room that Jug and Fp tried to brighten with some last minute Christmas decorations this morning. They eat and laugh but it’s not like it used to be, full of radiating happiness. But they knew it wouldn’t be so Fp thinks that the evening turned out rather successful, despite everything that’s been going on. He catches Jughead sneaking a look of pure adoration to Betty as she talks with Fred about a Christmas movie they used to watch together, her eyes bright with passion, and he thinks that maybe Betty could be Jughead’s salvation. But he knows better than to say that aloud. Instead he links his feet around Fred’s, presses into his calve and Fred smiles at him, warm and bright.

They do watch the movie then and Betty cries, Fp doesn’t know if it’s because of the plot or because she remembers all the time she watched it with Archie. He wraps an arm around her anyways and she buries her face in his shoulder, he feels Fred’s fingertips ghosting over his neck, before settling in between his shoulder blades, not before having stroked Betty’s hair.

And he wishes for this to be over. He is tired of feeling sad, and being cautious about what he says. He’s tired of waiting for this to be over, why does Fred have to suffer for so long, with no finish line in sight. It feels for him like they are stuck in time, like grief is pulling them back into loops they cannot escape. He fears that if Archie doesn’t come back at all, that they might never find their way back to a normal life, to life itself.

'We will bring Hiram down, and then Archie can come home.’,he thinks. 'And then we can finally live.'

Extra:

He’s so focused on the task at hand, with finding out how to destroy the Lodge’s, that his birthday would have almost slipped his mind, if it weren’t for Fred kissing his way up and down Fp’s neck one morning.

"Good Morning, Honey.", Fred drawls, all mouth and sucking and Fp has trouble registering what Fred says. He pushes Fred playfully away, before rolling onto his stomach, half on Fred’s stomach, half on the mattress, and beds his head on his chest.

"What’s that for?", he asks, a little breathless form the early action.

"It’s your birthday.", Fred states, because he knows Fp and he knows that the other rather forgets his birthday than admit that he aged another year.

Fp grunts, his hands ghosting on Fred’s ribs.

" 2 years before being dead."

" 38 is not that old!", Fred laughs. " And 40 doesn’t mean that you are dead and buried."

But that’s what it feels like to Fp. 40 is only a jump away from 50 and that’s almost being 60 and that’s the end. If he even lives ’til 60, the early drinking and smoking haven’t probably done anything good for his health either, the bad food and the lack of it neither. He could very well fall over at 40 and no one would be surprised.

Fred is kissing him again, softly, his neck, his shoulder, his collarbone.

"Let’s go out for dinner, why don’t we?", he whispers, and Fp has to admit he’d like that. Everyone knows about them but they haven’t done really anything to celebrate this or to show everybody that they are serious about this.

He nods and Fred is shifting now, moving downwards, dragging his teeth along Fp’s tummy.

"And I guess since it’s your birthday, you could get extra special birthday service."

And then he dips lower.

Fp might like his birthday after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fp's Birthday is the 20th of January.  
> And yeah I skipped New Year, sorry.


End file.
